A moment of my Christmas: waking up on the morning of the Three Kings Day, with my face stained due to burnt cork. I will always be grateful to my dad’s wit for this moment, who found the perfect formula to leave the mark of Balthazar’s kiss in my cheeks.
Year after year, we did that ritual again: following this surprise, there was a path of chocolate coins that led us to the living room of my house. It was forbidden to get inside before my dad opened the doors to that room which, one day a year, became my personal paradise.
With time, Barbie’s mansion gave away to photography books, all kind of bags, Fornasetti candles and, of course, sunglasses with endless shapes and colours. This year, the fashion dictates wants them to be round, XL size and without a frame. As you can see, I’m joining this 70s revival without half measures. Do you want to get on the train?
There are some traditions that will never die –I intend to copy my father, with burnt cork in my hand, when the time comes-, and the annual date of the Three Kings with Sunglass Hut is one of them.
On the early morning of the 6th, I hope to bump into Balthazar sheltered by a pair of sunglasses with my name on them.
Photos: Berta de la Presa.